221B Always Had A Habit Of Being The Hub Of The Impossible.

221B always had a habit of being the hub of the impossible. Anywhere from impossible cases, to impossible people, and Sherlock’s love life, which to most, was seemingly impossible. Yet, there they were, John and Sherlock sitting in their flat, years after Sherlock came back from the dead. Things were their normal form of chaotic and John’s blog was booming with brand new mysteries they’ve solved throughout the years together. However, they weren’t together in that sense but there was no doubt that there was something. Sherlock never believed in love, but John broke all of his boundaries, first as a best friend and then as something more that he simply refused to accept.
So that is where they were to this day, stuck in a moot point where John would be lucky to get any sign of affection from the man. There was this silent agreement
It was obvious that this client had some sort of effect on John and he looked up to meet John’s gaze.
“My Mother was the same way when she found out,” he said awkwardly, going back to his chair and rolled up his sleeves. Sherlock stood still and broke the eye contact, returning to his violin.
“The only thing I had going was that I also liked women,” he continued, picking up the daily paper, “How’d your mother react, she seems very loving and kind.”
“She’s clueless, if you asked her she’d be more surprised that I had feelings for anyone,” Sherlock answered and resumed playing.
“Like that woman?” John deadpanned which caused Sherlock’s hands to stop dead in their tracks. “She’s dead, I don’t know what you’re-”
“Or me.” John finished, his expression hidden by the newspaper. Sherlock chose to simply continue playing and ignore John’s words all together. It was when his phone’s message notification went off that he felt he was off the hook.
“We aren’t done with this conversation Sherlock,” John added as the consulting detective checked his